


We Hear Different Sounds than the Heartless Do

by dearfriendicanfly



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: ANYWAY THANK U MAQ FOR THIS PROMPT, F/F, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Mutual Pining, OT3, Post-Canon, honestly idk what to tag this im so bad at tags, i love these girls....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearfriendicanfly/pseuds/dearfriendicanfly
Summary: “What is that book, anyway?” Wakaba asks curiously.“Oh, just… something I picked up at the first train station I went to.” Anthy’s expression shifts, and Wakaba isn’t sure if it becomes more or less difficult to read. “I’m not usually much of a romance fan, but I thought I’d try something new.”“How is it?”Anthy smiles. “I’ll let you know when I get to the ending.”Wakaba and Anthy are both searching for Utena, so they decide to search together. But there's something else that they're searching for, too. Something within themselves.
Relationships: Himemiya Anthy/Shinohara Wakaba, Himemiya Anthy/Shinohara Wakaba/Tenjou Utena, Himemiya Anthy/Tenjou Utena, Shinohara Wakaba/Tenjou Utena
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	We Hear Different Sounds than the Heartless Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maaqss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maaqss/gifts).



Independence is a funny thing. Wakaba doesn’t feel terribly older, sitting alone in her seat on the train, watching the world go by her in smears of blue and green and dazzling specks of light that bounce off the windowpane and into her eyes. But she does feel _different_ _._ She isn’t sure how to put it into words, but something within her changes with the landscape.

“Here’s your coffee.”

She can’t put it into words that aren’t _Himemiya Anthy ._

“Thanks,” Wakaba says, greedily clutching at the cup with fingers stiff from the sudden spring chill. The warmth from the cup gradually loosens them, and she sighs contentedly. Anthy sits down on the seat across from her, gingerly nursing her own coffee. Her pet… _something,_ Chu-Chu, sits on her shoulder holding a comically small cup of his own, and Wakaba thinks better of asking how he got it.

“Did you have to go far to catch the concessions lady?” she asks instead, blowing a bit into her lid.

“Mm-mm. She was just in the next car.”

“Oh, good! Sorry to trouble you, haha…”

“Not at all.”

Anthy smiles politely and picks up a book from the seat beside her, thumbing through to where Wakaba presumes she last left off. Chu-Chu nuzzles close to her ear and looks intently, as if reading along.

_She isn’t saying much_ _,_ Wakaba thinks, as she often does when it comes to Anthy. But this is no surprise. It’s been this way since they began this unexpected little journey together. 

Wakaba’s eyes glaze over as she stares at the window, the scenery blurring and fading until all she sees is the glass and her and Anthy’s own reflections staring back at her. She remembers that she did the same thing when the two of them ran into each other by chance in that cafe just a few days ago: stared out the window, seemingly uninterested, all the while watching Anthy’s hazy reflection in the glass — for once, transparent.

_I’m looking for her, too,_ Anthy had said, as if Wakaba hadn’t already known somehow, deep in her heart. Hadn’t prayed that she would be the first to find Utena, the one to _mean_ something.

But the words had come out of her as if of their own will: _Why don’t we look together?_

And even seen in the foggy glass window, that small, near imperceptible shift in Anthy’s expression was enough to make Wakaba betray herself with a sharp breath. 

_I wouldn’t mind the company,_ Anthy had said, soft as feathers, her eyes just the tiniest bit clearer.

Remembering it still makes Wakaba feel sick to her stomach with… something. Shame, guilt, or perhaps something else. Another thing she can’t find words to describe besides _Himemiya Anthy._

Himemiya Anthy, who has traded her glasses for an only slightly less opaque gaze. Who speaks with just the slightest bit more warmth behind that polite manner. Who wears her hair in loose waves that gather around her shoulders and cascade down her back and—

“Wakaba, your drink—”

“Oh—!”

Wakaba catches herself before letting the cup slip from her now warm fingers and blushes, letting out a nervous laugh.

“I-I guess I got a little _too_ relaxed! Thanks for the heads up!”

“Don’t worry about it.”

And she smiles politely again. Always polite. Always helpful. Always quiet.

_I suppose I can’t say the same for you,_ Wakaba thinks, with unexpected sadness. _I doubt you’ve ever relaxed for a day in your life._

_Especially not around me._

Wakaba swallows the sudden sourness in the back of her throat, along with a swig of coffee. She thinks it’s much warmer than the stuff they drank back in that cafe, if a little more bitter.

The sun sets behind rolling hills, the one slow and steady sight outside their window. Even Anthy puts down her book to watch as the countryside is cast in soft reds and golds.

Wakaba watches the colors shift in Anthy’s eyes, but all she can see are more reflections.

* * *

When they arrive at the little motel in the countryside, they realize that even with their money pooled together, they can only afford a single. One room, one bed.

“Oh, dear,” Anthy says simply.

Wakaba laughs, a little too brightly. “Sorry about that, I’ll take the floor.”

“Hm? What for? It’s a double bed.”

Wakaba blinks. Anthy just smiles.

“Oh! R-Right, we’re both girls, after all!” Wakaba laughs again, breathier and more high pitched. “If it doesn’t bother you, then it doesn’t bother me! Gosh, it’s like a school trip, ahaha!”

_Stop talking!_ she begs herself. _For the love of all that is good and holy, shut up!!_

But she continues to chatter on as they take their bags up to their room, and Anthy nods along, smiling her usual polite smile. Wakaba can’t be sure if it’s because she’s talking too much for Anthy to get a word in edgewise, or if she’s just desperate to fill the silence with something. 

When they get to their room, the bed greets them conspicuously, the centerpiece of the small and fairly barren room.

“Well,” Anthy says.

“Well,” Wakaba agrees.

_It’s like something out of a bad shoujo manga_ _,_ she thinks, and she wonders if Anthy might laugh at that. Wonders what it might sound like. 

She doesn’t say it out loud.

“Um, I’m going to take a shower,” she says instead, depositing her bag in the corner and pulling out some toiletries and a pair of pajamas. “Unless you want to go first?”

“Oh no, that’s fine,” Anthy smiles, setting her suitcase down next to Wakaba’s. “You’ll probably be quicker than me, so you should go. And I need to feed Chu-Chu, anyway.”

“ _Chu!_ ” pipes up the… Chu-Chu in question. He climbs down from his comfy spot on top of Anthy’s suitcase and pulls a tiny lunchbox out of his own bindle. 

“Right… uh… w-well, I’ll be out in just a minute,” Wakaba stammers, and scurries into the bathroom. She isn’t sure that she wants to know what Chu-Chu eats.

When she comes back out, clean and comfy in her pajamas, she finds Chu-Chu fast asleep in his own little sleeping bag on the bedside table, and Anthy poring over their itinerary once again.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Wakaba asks, sitting down beside her on the bed as she towels her hair dry.

“No,” Anthy murmurs, “just… double checking. We still have a long ways.”

Her frown as her gaze jumps from one map to the next, one rail guide to another, tells Wakaba otherwise. Something is wrong, just not necessarily with the itinerary.

“...Well, it’ll go by faster than you think!” She smiles, pulling the towel down around her neck to let her hair fall about her face in short, damp curls. “At least, it does for me. I’m having a lot of fun, traveling around on our own like this.”

Anthy looks up at her, and Wakaba’s smile nearly falters. As piercing as Anthy’s gaze can be, Wakaba often thinks that her eyes almost look like glass — frosted and opaque, glinting with something difficult to see past. After a moment that stretches into eternity, Anthy smiles, polite and pleasant. “Yes, so am I.”

In one practiced motion, she gathers the papers and tucks them back into their pocket of her suitcase, drawing out a nightgown and bonnet instead. “I’ll go ahead and shower as well,” she says, ducking into the bathroom and leaving Wakaba staring dumbly from the bed.

She isn’t sure why it feels so hard to breathe — or, more importantly, why every conversation with Anthy feels like a test that she always fails. As it often does, her hand begins to worry her ring finger. 

_Maybe we’re just too different._

Chu-Chu snores softly by Wakaba’s ear and she watches him with a sigh.

“I bet _you_ understand her,” Wakaba mumbles. “You two are peas in a pod.”

_And Utena understood._

The thought makes her feel sick at her stomach.

When Anthy comes back out, Wakaba feels a draft of warm, steamy air. The soapy scent is light and floral and quite pleasant. She’s wrapped her impossibly long hair in a towel as best she could, cozy in a ruffled nightgown.

“Cute pajamas,” Wakaba says, without thinking.

Anthy smiles, unexpectedly genuine. “Thanks. I like yours, too.”

Anthy climbs into bed beside her, and Wakaba once again catches that clean floral scent.

_Lovely_ _,_ she thinks. It’s the only word that comes to mind.

“Are you going to sleep soon?”

Wakaba blinks, slightly distracted. “Oh— no, uh, not really, you don’t have to turn the lights out yet.”

“Mm. I’ll read for a little while, then.”

She pulls that same book from the train out of her bag and settles in, the covers drawn up to her chin. Wakaba finds herself smiling at how comfy she looks.

“What is that book, anyway?” she asks curiously.

“Oh, just… something I picked up at the first train station I went to.” Anthy’s expression shifts, and Wakaba isn’t sure if it becomes more or less difficult to read. “I’m not usually much of a romance fan, but I thought I’d try something new.”

“How is it?”

Anthy smiles. “I’ll let you know when I get to the ending.”

After a while, both of them start to feel drowsy, warm and clean and comfortable in the soft hotel blankets. When Anthy switches off the light, Wakaba blinks, waiting for her eyes to adjust in the dark. Anthy’s face swims into her field of vision, closer than expected.

“Well, good night.”

Wakaba swallows. “Good night.”

And the two of them roll over, backs to one another, and it only now occurs to Wakaba just how small the bed is. She can feel the smalls of their backs just barely touching.

_We’re both girls,_ she thinks to herself, swallowing drily. _It’s not so weird._

This thought does nothing for the gooseflesh she can feel prickling her arms and the back of her neck. In the dark, Wakaba can feel Anthy’s back against her own, rising and falling with each breath. 

She isn’t sure how long she lays in the dark like this, too alert to sleep, too lost in thought to register the time. But at some point in the night, she feels Anthy shift hesitantly.

And then, Anthy’s voice, even more startling for its softness. “Wakaba?”

“What is it?”

Anthy is silent for such a long moment, Wakaba wonders if she didn’t imagine it. But then she feels Anthy shifting against her, drawing a little closer. “…Is this really all right?”

“The bed…? I don’t mind it.”

“No, I mean…”

Wakaba waits patiently, oddly breathless.

“It’s nothing,” Anthy finally whispers, soft as a breath. 

“...O-Okay.”

More silence. It claws at Wakaba’s heart, makes it beat sickly fast. She wonders if Anthy can hear it, feel it in the place where their ribs brush against each other. Wonders if it would comfort her, somehow.

“How is… everyone?”

Wakaba glances over her shoulder, but it’s no good in the dark. Despite the silence, Anthy does not repeat herself or elaborate. Just waits politely.

“Um… the student council, you mean?”

Silence.

“Uh, they’re doing good!” Wakaba continues, a little more loudly. “Actually, I joined for a little while last year. Saionji invited me. His way of apologizing for… some things, I guess. Kind of a funny way to apologize, asking me to help them out, but the work was actually kinda fun. And those guys have… changed a little, I think.”

Anthy listens in silence as Wakaba tells her all about Miki’s new apprentice, the elementary schooler who used to follow Nanami around — too busy for such things these days, though, she notes with a laugh. But whatever his and Miki’s job was supposed to _be_ _,_ Anthy’s guess was just as good as hers.

She tells her about Juri’s friend who joined the fencing club — Takatsuki, she thinks her name was — and how Juri has seemed a little more cheerful ever since. She recalls with unexpected fondness how Nanami started growing vegetables in the mysteriously empty greenhouse, tending to them whenever she thought no one would see. 

“She was kind of clumsy about it at first,” Wakaba giggles, “but I would go in and fix stuff for her when she wasn’t around. I’m no good with flowers, but my mom and I used to raise a vegetable garden together. Eventually she caught me and I felt so bad, but she wasn’t as mad as I thought she would be. After she got over the embarrassment, we ended up just working together on it. We raised some pretty decent tomatoes. It was fun!”

Wakaba suddenly hesitates. “Oh, and… Saionji and Touga graduated, of course.”

She can feel Anthy grow suddenly still beside her. “Oh?” is all she says, quiet and flat.

“Y-Yeah, uh… I think they were just planning to go to university. I don’t really know. They didn’t talk much about future stuff.”

“I see.”

Wakaba feels a chill in the silence that follows, heavier and more oppressive than before. 

She wonders if she should tell Anthy about her last conversation with Touga, alone in the student council room after the ceremony, staring out at horizon stretching so far beyond their line of sight.

_Are you waiting for something?_ Wakaba had asked, staring at Touga’s rose crest ring, still on his finger.

_Maybe_ _,_ Touga had answered, with an uncharacteristically wry smile. _It might never come, though._

_Will you look for them?_

Touga’s silence then reminds her of Anthy’s silence now – heavy with something that makes her heart sink. 

_No,_ he answered. _I hope I never see them again. I hope they ran and never looked back and started over somewhere else far from here. Anywhere else._

And Wakaba had felt so small and stupid then, swallowing a lump in her throat and running her thumb over her own naked ring finger.

_You never know_ _,_ she’d said quietly. _Utena was never the type to run away._

When she closes her eyes, she can see again the way that the world sprawled out before her, so distant and so incomprehensibly large. It seems smaller from the train windows, somehow, than from the balcony at school. As if she’s already become a part of it.

“I think they probably went somewhere far, far away,” Wakaba finally says softly, and nothing else.

“I hope so,” Anthy whispers.

Wakaba isn’t sure whose sake Anthy’s wish is for. But something about it makes her want to offer her hand for Anthy to hold.

She doesn’t.

The next morning, she wakes to find Anthy playing with Chu-Chu in bed while the TV plays lowly across the room — a friendly commercial jingle, to which Chu-Chu dances, spinning around on Anthy’s chest, holding onto her outstretched finger. Anthy giggles, soft and sleepy.

Wakaba’s heart clenches, and she pretends to be asleep. She gets the feeling that Anthy would never make such a face if she knew Wakaba could see.

* * *

After a light breakfast and having hurriedly packed their bags, it’s time to move on. Wakaba breathes in the cool morning air from the room’s balcony and lets the breeze brush her cheek. It fills her with something she doesn’t yet have a word for, but treasures nonetheless. Perhaps it’s _adventure ._

“Himemiya,” she calls, coming back into the room. “I returned the keys, so we should probably—”

Her voice falters. Anthy’s face is dark as she once again glances over the itinerary, her eyes scanning all of Wakaba’s handwritten notes and little doodles.

“Himemiya…?”

She doesn’t look up. Only lets out a breath that seems to deflate her shoulders.

“I never did ask you why you wanted to find Utena.”

Wakaba’s heart seizes in her chest. She isn’t sure why, but the question makes her whole body tense up as if on the defensive. Is it anger that she’s expecting from Anthy? Jealousy? She isn’t sure what she feels from her to begin with, other than something very deep and cold.

The silence stretches into what feels like an eternity. Wakaba stares, at a loss, as Anthy just reads her cheerful little notes over and over.

_A great day for traveling!_

_Halfway there!_

_Don’t forget an umbrella on this day!_

_Make sure to buy a souvenir for Utena here!_

_You’ve almost made it!_

She can remember each one, and isn’t sure why they suddenly embarrass her. _Everything_ embarrasses her around Anthy. Everything she does feels like it falls short of... something. Something important. Something that might have kept Utena from vanishing without a trace. 

_If you were to vanish, too, I..._

She takes a deep breath.

Wakaba sits down beside Anthy on the bed, and decides to try one last time to make _something_ connect.

“I want… to apologize, I think.” Wakaba clutches the bedsheets tightly. “I… I said some really stupid things. I thought we were best friends, but there’s so much I didn’t know… and then she disappeared, and I just… kept moving. Even though I knew there was something wrong about it. About all of it. I… it scares me. It makes me angry. I want to apologize.”

“I should… apologize to you, too.”

Anthy’s voice makes Wakaba’s breath turn to ice in her chest. She glances up, and that strange glassy quality has left Anthy’s eyes. Like a stained glass window, the light pours in, and Wakaba can finally make out the full picture. All she sees is a deep, unfathomable pain.

“I did… terrible things to you,” Anthy whispers. “To all of you. You know that. I know you do.”

Wakaba’s hands clench at her sides as she remembers it all – the ornament in Anthy’s hair, the cold resolve in her heart, the plunging of the wilted rose into her chest. She can remember the draft of her empty dorm room so clearly that she feels it send a shiver down her back, even here. Just thinking about it stirs something angry and spiteful and _frightened_ deep in her heart.

It makes her feel disgusting.

“I did, too. I… I _hated_ you. Before anything, before I even knew you. I didn’t even know why. I resented you so much…” 

_I still do,_ she realizes, with an icy pang of her heart. 

“And Utena… I resented her, too… She knew I did, and she still helped me…”

Finally, Anthy looks at her. There are so many feelings that Wakaba cannot begin to name, twisting the corners of Anthy’s mouth, swimming in her eyes. She almost reaches out to smooth the creases from her face. She doesn’t.

“I’m tired of feeling hateful,” Wakaba says. _I want to love_ , she thinks.

Anthy is silent for a long time. She clutches the itinerary with fingers that shake, just barely. 

“I’ve never done anything like this,” she whispers. “It doesn’t feel real. Like a dream that I'll wake up from at any moment.”

Wakaba eyes Anthy's trembling hands, and her own fingers twitch slightly. It would be so easy to reach out.

“...Well, then it’s a good thing I’m here. To help you remember.”

Wakaba is startled by a sudden weight on her shoulder. When she looks down, she sees Chu-Chu, smiling up at her. “ _Chu?_ ” he squeaks.

Wakaba laughs, a little nervous, but reaches up to scratch him behind his massive ears. He leans into the touch, seemingly content.

For the first time, she thinks that he's actually pretty cute.

When Wakaba looks back up, Anthy is staring at her in surprise. She quickly smooths over the expression, however, and tucks the itinerary back into her bag.

“You said you returned the keys?”

“Huh? O-Oh, yeah, we’re checked out and everything.”

“Mm. We should be going.”

And then the moment is gone — Anthy's hands no longer tremble as she picks up her bag and walks briskly out the door into the new day. Wakaba picks up her own bag and hurries out of the room behind Anthy, Chu-Chu still on her shoulder. 

As she locks the room behind her, Wakaba's heart begins to sink. Was that the end of it? Did she say something wrong? Did she fall short?

But as they descend the stairs, Anthy suddenly stops. Looks up, over the roof of the motel rooms, to the sun as it breaks from the distant horizon. Wakaba follows her gaze and thinks to herself that it's the kind of sight that you only get to see in places like this, traveling in the early morning. It reminds her of family road trips as a child, the sort of thing she would get a sleepy glimpse of over her father's shoulder, as he carried her safely to the car.

It's beautiful.

When Anthy speaks, her back to Wakaba, her voice is softer than Wakaba has ever heard it.

“...Thank you for letting me come with you.”

Wakaba thinks her bags feel a little lighter in her hands. She steps down to stand on the step beside Anthy, their hands brushing against each other.

“I’m glad for the company.”

* * *

Too fast, Wakaba and Anthy find themselves on the last train of their journey. Wakaba thinks she’ll miss it — the soft tattoo of the tracks, the sleepy rocking of the car, the evening sun gleaming through the window.

But she also feels a mounting excitement as she and Anthy go over what they know: in the town where they’ll stop, a woman named Tenjou who owns a flower shop recently took in a young distant relative to help with the shop. A loose lead, certainly, but the only one they have.

“If she’s not there, we’ll be back to the drawing board,” Wakaba sighs.

“Mm… but another lead might come up.”

“True… but we might not find her before the break ends.”

Anthy simply looks at her. “We might not,” she agrees. 

_What will you do, then?_ Anthy could ask. 

_I’m glad I found you,_ Wakaba could say. 

Neither of them speak.

This time, rather than across from her, Anthy sits beside Wakaba. Chu-Chu hops down from her shoulder and into Wakaba’s lap, nuzzling sleepily into the frills of her skirt and dozing off.

The light rosy scent of Anthy’s hair, the closeness of her hand on the seat, all of it makes Wakaba feel overwhelmed with something she can’t find words to describe that aren’t _Himemiya Anthy._

“Are you going to attend Ohtori’s high school?”

“Huh? Oh…” Wakaba takes a breath, willing the tightness in her chest to fade enough for her to speak. “Um, I dunno. I guess that would be the… the normal thing to do.”

“Mm… I suppose it would.”

A lump rises in Wakaba’s throat. Something in Anthy’s voice tells her that’s not the answer she wanted to hear. 

_Because she’s not a normal girl,_ Wakaba thinks. _Utena isn’t a normal girl. And they’re going to go somewhere far, far away, and never look back._

_And I’ll go back to Ohtori, and nothing will change._

Still, when Anthy silently takes her hand, Wakaba thinks maybe she can allow herself to imagine for just this one last leg of their journey together that she could be someone special enough to deserve this.

* * *

And then, they find her.

It’s almost anticlimactic — they simply follow the map to the address of the flower shop and there she is, sweeping the entryway. When she sees them, the broom clatters to the ground, and Wakaba realizes that she has no idea what to say.

And then, it’s like something out of a movie. Anthy leaps at Utena, and Utena catches her, the two of them tumbling to the ground as Wakaba watches in stunned silence.

“Himemiya…” Utena chokes, her eyes already full of tears.

“At last, we meet,” Anthy whispers.

For a while, they just hold each other, unable to put this avalanche of feelings into words.

And Wakaba stares, silent.

_Ah…_ she realizes. _This was always how it was meant to go._

Her hand once again drifts to her ring finger. 

_I was never the main character of this story._

She turns away, feeling foggy and strange. The cobblestones under her feet seem to swim before her eyes. She doesn’t know where to go.

And then— she feels arms wrapping tightly around her waist from behind as she’s lifted off the ground and spun around like a doll.

“WA-KA-BA!” a gleeful and familiar voice shouts.

“Wh— Utena—!”

“You’re not getting away _that_ easy!” Utena laughs, finally slowing to a stop and setting Wakaba gently back on the ground. She doesn’t stop hugging her, however, laughing breathily and leaning her head on Wakaba’s shoulder. 

Her hair is much shorter now, Wakaba realizes, cropped closely around her face. The ends of it tickle Wakaba’s cheek. Her very warm, very red cheek.

Utena finally lets go of her waist, spinning Wakaba around to face her. Her face is bright red, practically glowing with joy despite her puffy eyes and snotty nose. A lump rises in Wakaba’s throat as she looks at her — Utena, her friend. Happy and bright and full of life, as she always should have been.

“U…Utena…” Wakaba’s vision blurs. She feels her face crumpling. There’s nothing to be done.

She begins crying in the street, wailing like a child. Utena wraps her arms around her again, and Wakaba holds her tightly as if afraid she might disappear into the air.

“ _UTENA!_ ” Wakaba sobs. She can’t find any other words to express it.

“That’s me,” Utena laughs shakily, giving Wakaba a squeeze. “You found me.”

Were Wakaba watching, she would have seen Anthy wearing the brightest smile of her life — at last, completely transparent with joy.

* * *

It’s like a dream, Wakaba thinks, as they all scurry into the house, Utena having been given permission to close the shop early for the day.

“Any friend of Utena’s is welcome here,” says her guardian warmly, pouring tea for her guests. She looks younger than Wakaba expected.

“Ume married a cousin of mine,” Utena explains later. “He died a couple of years ago, but when she heard about… well, she came to talk to me at the hospital and I ended up moving here instead of going back to my other relatives.”

She babbles excitedly about the flowers and all the townsfolk and the view of the countryside from her new house. Wakaba has never seen her so _happy._

“Ume said I didn’t have to work in the shop, but it’s really fun! I mostly work in the greenhouse while she runs the shop, so I get to spend a lot of time just hanging out around the flowers. It’s kind of soothing.”

“That sounds lovely,” Anthy says quietly, and Wakaba isn’t sure what to make of the look exchanged between them. It makes her feel like an intruder.

“A-Anyway,” Utena says, trying to hide a blush, “you guys should definitely stay here as long as you want! Ume agreed, you shouldn’t have to go to a hotel. We have a spare room for guests, anyway.”

Anthy looks to Wakaba questioningly, and Wakaba jumps at being addressed.

“O-Oh, as long as we’re not intruding,” she stammers.

“‘Course not! You two could never… well, y’know.” She blushes again, smiling goofily. “I mean, it’s just so good to see you…”

Wakaba swallows hard. She isn’t sure why her heart is sinking, but she hates it.

She feels Anthy eyeing her closely from beside her, and she hates that even more.

“I’ll take our bags to the room,” Anthy says mildly, gathering them in her arms and quickly leaving.

“Do you need me to show you where?” Utena asks, surprised as she starts to rise from her seat.

“Oh, no, thank you. I can handle it.”

“O-Okay, well, it’s the second door on the left in the hallway!” Utena calls out. She sits back down, looking a little baffled. But when she looks back at Wakaba, she smiles again, warm and bright.

“Do you wanna see the garden?”

Wakaba nods, hoping that Utena doesn’t see the warmth stinging her cheeks at her smile.

Utena takes her by the hand and leads her out to the back of the house, like an excitable child. 

“It’s not very impressive yet, since I only just planted it, but… well… you’ll see.”

What greets Wakaba is a little plot full of thick, high-rising stems coming to a burst of buds almost like a dandelion.

“Hydrangeas!” Utena smiles. “They won’t bloom for a little while, but it’s so exciting to see how big they grow… I’m gonna plant more flowers soon, but I wanted to see how well I did with these before making a proper garden. Ume is really nice, she thought it would be good for me to have some flowers of my own instead of just tending to hers all the time, so she gave me some seeds.”

The little yard behind the house is neatly kept, but with a few things strewn around like a watering can and a flimsy chair placed next to Utena’s plot as if she liked to sit and watch it grow. A pair of gardening gloves hang from a nail in the fence and a fertilizer bag leans against the house.

_Lovely,_ Wakaba thinks.

“Flowers, huh?”

Utena blushes, running a hand through the close crop of her hair. Wakaba feels a pang — for a moment, she looks just like she did at school.

“Kind of a girly image, huh?” she laughs, glancing bashfully at Wakaba out of the corner of her eye. “I didn’t think I would be cut out for it, but… I wanted to try.”

“For Himemiya?”

Utena turns bright red, laughing nervously. Wakaba feels another pang, icier this time.

“Well… sort of, but… more like… I wanted to learn to nurture something.” Utena pulls an arm around the back of her head, stretching absently. “I-I don’t know if that makes any sense, but it… I dunno. I feel like I’m changing, just a little.”

“Changing?”

“...Yeah. Like… better. I think.” Her shoulders seem to shrink a little. “I hope…”

She turns and looks at Wakaba, as if to say something, but the words seem to die in her throat. She looks back to the flowers, brow drawn, and lets out a long breath. When she glances back at Wakaba, her expression is apprehensive. 

Wakaba feels her blood run cold. For some reason, she thinks that whatever Utena is about to say might shatter her.

“Wakaba… I… I was a real idiot. You always took care of me, and I didn’t— I wasn’t— we were so—”

Wakaba’s throat closes. “Stop,” she whispers.

“W-Wakaba, please, I want you to know that I—”

“I know.”

Utena’s hands curl and uncurl anxiously at her sides, her eyes wide and swimming with something Wakaba has never seen before. “You don’t. I have to say it.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“…Why?”

“Because I don’t deserve it.”

Utena’s face crumbles just as Wakaba knew that it would. Utena has always been too kind for her own good. 

Utena reaches out to try to bridge the distance between them, but Wakaba steps back.

“Wakaba…”

“Something happened to you, didn’t it?” She feels herself start to tremble. “And Himemiya, and the council, and I— I was so stupid and selfish and I was _angry_ at you and I didn’t _help_ you, and then you went away and you didn’t call or write or anything and… and…”

“ _Wakaba…_ ”

And then Utena’s arms are around her and Wakaba’s shaking knees finally give and they’re both on the ground, clinging to each other while Wakaba sobs as though her heart would break. 

“I was supposed to be your _friend,_ ” Wakaba chokes out, the words strangled by an anguish she’s never known.

“I wasn’t a good friend to _you_ ,” Utena says shakily, hugging Wakaba more tightly. “I want— It’s— I wanna be _different_. I want to try again. I know that’s selfish, but…”

Wakaba’s heart seems to stop. She feels her whole frame begin to tremble, and she shakes her head.

“What are you saying?” she whispers. She doesn’t dare to hope. 

But Utena has always had a funny way of surprising her. She pulls away from Wakaba, reaching out to touch her face. She wipes a tear from her eye, gentler than Wakaba ever thought possible, as Wakaba stares numbly.

“I missed you so much… I don’t want to lose you again. You’re special to me.”

The words pierce her ribs. She feels her whole body go slack. 

_Why? Why me? What am I, compared to her? Or to Himemiya?_

But she can’t find it in herself to doubt the tenderness of Utena’s thumb caressing her cheek, the honest fear of rejection in her eyes, the warmth of the evening sun bathing the two of them. 

She reaches up with a trembling hand to touch Utena’s. There's no ring on her finger.

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” she says hoarsely. “Never again.”

And then it’s Utena’s turn to cry, hugging Wakaba so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. 

From the window, Anthy watches.

* * *

It takes a while to pull themselves together, but eventually the two of them go back into the house, snotty and pathetic and laughing in earnest. The rest of the day passes by in a happy blur of warm food and laughter and sunshine and Utena and Anthy and this inexplicable warmth in the pit of Wakaba’s stomach. It isn’t long until they wear themselves out, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.

“Cozy, isn’t it?” Anthy smiles as Wakaba comes in to admire her handiwork in setting up the room.

“Super cozy,” she agrees, flopping down into the futon. The two of them have already washed up and changed and the moon casts a cool glow into the room from the window.

And Wakaba means it — it _is_ cozy here, much cozier than her empty dorm room back in Ohtori, full of dust and regrets and unwashed mugs.

By the light of the moon, Anthy is reading — a different book this time, though, one that Ume lent her.

"Hey, how did that other book end?" Wakaba asks, eyeing her curiously. "The romance novel you were reading."

Anthy looks at her, and in the soft moonlight, Wakaba can't help but think that she looks beautiful. 

"...I don't know," Anthy admits. "There's still one chapter left."

"Oh." Wakaba turns onto her stomach, resting her chin in her hand. "Well, I guess I do that, too. Stop right before the end, I mean. It's fun to imagine your own ending."

"Fun, huh..." Anthy smiles, somewhere between wry and fond. "Well... I'd like to think I know how it'll end. But maybe I'll be surprised."

Wakaba isn't sure what to make of her voice. It isn't cool and polite like before, but still inscrutable. Like a knot to be untied, or a puzzle to put back together.

Wakaba thinks she likes it better this way. 

“...I think I won’t go back to Ohtori,” she says quietly. Anthy freezes, glancing at her. In the dim moonlight, Wakaba can see Anthy’s eyes glittering.

“Oh?” she murmurs. 

“Mm. There’s a high school out here, too. Ume-san was talking about it. Apparently it’s a boarding school… I think I’ll transfer.”

The silence that follows is different from past ones. Wakaba doesn’t feel compelled to fill it with anything. She feels content.

“That’s good, then,” Anthy finally says, her voice soft as feathers. “I would miss you.”

Her words make Wakaba want to reach out and hold Anthy’s hand. For once, she does.

“Then you better not go anywhere. Traveling’s no fun without you.”

Anthy smiles, slow and warm. She squeezes Wakaba’s hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much to Maq for giving me a prompt for anthy/wakaba/utena, and for introducing me to this incredible show. I love it almost as much as I love you <3
> 
> writing for rgu is always hard because there's just... So Much..... just in general. there is so much. but I really enjoyed it, and I hope I could do it justice! ty all for reading, and as always kudos and comments are appreciated more than I can say :')


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